Sleep was difficult after my last experience. I’d spend hours lying, eyes open, afraid that if I blinked for longer than a second, I’d revert back to the moment after my dragon egg trial. I had gotten out of my gamer rig, but that didn’t change a thing.

Thirty hours, I thought, staring at the dirty ceiling. A day and half, two thirds of which would be wasted with work. That left approximately fourteen hours, not much at all in the grand scheme of things, especially if I had to deal with Firestarter. My encounter with her might have been fictional, but I had the feeling she’d react the same way should we meet for real.

What the hell was this game that it made so many people obsessed over it? Legion had warned me to stay away, but there was nothing to say he wasn’t just another competitor using psychological means to get rid of me.

“You have two hours until work, Sarah,” Twinkle said in a concerned voice. “It’s not healthy to go without sleep.”

“I know, Twinkle,” I sighed with a smile. “I’ll make up for it later.” Or so I could hope. “Just stop with the warnings for today, okay?”

“Are you sure?” the AI half asked, half pleaded.

“Yes.” I sat up in my bed. “I am sure.”

The companion made a sad meowing sound, then went silent. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have the same conversation in another hour. I took my phone and checked the weather: twenty-one Celsius, low humidity, no rain expected.

“Twinkle, did you change my settings?” I thought I'd had it set to Fahrenheit.

“Your settings are the same they have always been, Sarah,” the childish voice responded. “Do you want me to check the logs of—“

“No, no need.” If anyone was good enough to hack through my security undetected, she wouldn’t be clumsy enough to leave tracks behind. Most likely Jeff had changed it when meddling with Twinkle’s settings.

I checked the state of my bank accounts. If anyone would have told me a week ago there would be so much money inside, I would have laughed. Now, I felt like I hadn’t gotten enough. I considered upgrading my gear, maybe even by a full sense and smell module. That would enhance my gaming experience considerably, though an additional processor might be more beneficial. Alternatively, with the money Flicker had given to relieve his conscience, I could rent a better apartment for the next six months. Both options had their merits, but weren’t something I needed right now. In the end, I decided to repay another portion of my university loans and leave only a “small” sum for emergencies.

“Twinkle.” I dragged myself out of bed. “Ignore all mails except those from Jeff and Vesperia.” I yawned. The recent stress had made me so thirsty, I could drink one of the disgusting things Kyle had offered me in my dream. “And except the university,” I added. I didn’t want years of study to go to waste in the off chance they got their act together early.

Scratching my back, I went for a quick shower. The water felt nice, but didn’t manage to cure my fatigue. I brushed off some of the water with a towel—which I then tossed on the bed—and got dressed in my work clothes.

“Are we out of rain protectors?” I asked Twinkle as I stared the sore excuse for plastic that passed for one. It was one thing to reuse single use items, but even that had its limit.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” the AI whimpered. “Do you want me to restock? There’s a premium deal for the next fourteen minutes! Five for the price of three.”

“Sure.” It’s not going to rain today anyway. “Order away. I’ll go out for a bit.” I put a strand of plastic on the door hinge, then left.

The city was noisy this time of night. Most of the crowds had left the fancy bars and neighborhoods, moving to more low class areas. The place I was at didn’t risk falling into any of the above categories, though there still would be groups of partners passing through.

I took a deep breath. The air was crisp, with a slight aftertaste of cleaning chemicals. At least it isn’t deodorant, I thought and started walking. After years of practice, I knew the location of the closest automated food dispensers by heart. With time to kill, though, I decided to walk about a bit.

“Twinkle, mark all active dispensers in the area,” I said.

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI chirped in my ears. “Markers added to your map. Are you searching for anything in particular?”

“No.” The image of the techno priest appeared in my mind. In my dream, similar to now, I had found him by wondering about my neighborhood. At this time, there was no chance of me meeting him again, even if he existed. I was still curious, though.

Looking at the map, there were two food dispensers close to the theoretical area the sect had bought office space in. One was on the way there, so I chose to pass by it.

There wasn’t a soul as I walked through the streets. In the distance I could hear echoes of laughter fading away into silence once more. An automated cleaning car passed by, spraying the asphalt with decontaminants. A sudden shiver passed through me. I glanced over my shoulder, but there was no one there.

You’re getting paranoid again. Though at this point, the line between paranoid and practical was getting more and more blurred. I could see people quitting the quest out of fear; maybe some couldn’t handle the pressure and were driven insane? If they were rich kids like Flicker, it was very likely.

“You have a message from school!” Twinkle’s voice broke the silence. “Do you want me to read it?”

“No.” I felt my pulse quicken. At some point, I had to tweak his notification options again. “Just summarize.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI giggles. “The university is still having technical issues, so they are unaware when they could have your exam. Respectively, you have been given full marks on all relevant tests.”

“Nice.” That was a bit of good news. At least I didn’t have to think about lessons for the next few weeks, or until they repaired enough of their system to send me next semester’s syllabus. “Are Claire, Max, or Firestarter logged on to Vesperia?”

“Checking,” he replied. “None of the names are listed as online. Do you want me to do a paid info request?”

So they were offline or hiding. “No.” There was no point in wasting money on a useless check. After my latest transactions, I wasn’t “rich” anymore.

I reached the food depository and input my order—chilled water with lemon flavoring. This one was larger than the ones near my apartment, big enough to service two people at the same time. While my order was being processed, I glanced idly at the sponsor stickers on the metal panel.

Please collect your order!

A message flashed on the small screen as the panel slid up.

Your account has been charged! Thank you for using the Ludlum Prosperity Supermarket chain. Data regarding your choice has been sent to our Sentra servers to better improve your personalized service.

I grabbed my drink, ignoring the obligatory charity requests that followed. I never understood why they even bothered, keeping in mind the financial situation of the people who’d use an automated dispenser.

The spot where the techno sect had “been” was less than a minute away. With every step, unease flashed in the back of my mind growing stronger.

“Last night, I saw upon the stair a little man who wasn’t there,” I whispered as I walked. “He wasn’t there again today. Oh, how I wish he’d go away.”

My mother used to whisper that poem to me when I had nightmares as a child. It always managed to calm me down enough to fall asleep. I hadn’t thought about it in over a decade. Saying it out loud didn’t make me feel any better. When I reached the building, I felt even worse. My stomach shrank, as I stood in front of a small office, its facade covered entirely by neon tubes. All the lights were off, but the name spelled out above the door was unmistakable: Church of St. Jeremy with a small “Registered Class Three Religion” underneath.

I felt my fingers freeze. I hadn’t been imagining things!

“Twinkle, check all my movements,” I said, my voice shivering. “Have I ever been at this location?”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI's cheer didn’t help in the least. “You have passed through that approximate spot a hundred and seven times before now. The last one was a fifty-eight days ago, when you were going to a game promotional event.”

Two months ago. I vaguely remembered the event, though not passing by here.

“Check when this sect office got its permit.” I took a step back. A deep feeling of unease compelled me to get away from here as fast as possible.

“The permit was issued a week ago,” Twinkle said. “The outlet of Saint Jeremy is scheduled to officially open in the next two days. They are giving out online invites for the event. Do you want me to buy one?”

There was no way for me to have seen it and forgotten. My first reaction was pinch my arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The second was to briskly walk away.

“You’re moving away from the spot,” Twinkle said. “Do you want me to do any other—“

“Shut up, Twinkle,” I hissed through my teeth. Two things from my “dream”—the ghost forum and the techno sect—had turned out to be real:. In that case, it was entirely possible that the third was also true—Firestarter would be after me. My only new available option was the same as my last: stay out of her way and complete the quest before she does.

Within minutes, I was on my way to work. It would be hours before we opened, but with luck, Kyle might be there early, or even Jeff. Commercials flashed along the LED billboards, trying to grab my attention. As I passed by, the billboards went dark. All the power in the area was drained away, plunging it into darkness. No traffic lights, no led displays, no cell reception... and still somehow, no alarms had gone off.

“Twinkle?” I asked, worried.

“Yes, Sarah?” The silly AI with its cheerful voice let me sigh in relief. “How can I help you?”

“Twinkle, just—“

The billboard next to me flickered and returned to life, streaming its low quality ads and student movies. The street and traffic lights were back, as well as those of the nearby buildings, dancing about as if nothing had happened.

“Hello, Sarah!” Twinkle said again. “I restored my online connection. Parts of the city were affected by a large scale attack by a yet-unknown hacker mercenary collective. Specialized authorities have been dispatched to deal with the issue. There is a small possibility that you will be contacted for questioning as a witness.”

Crap! On top of all my usual problems, I really didn’t need to deal with this right now. All my fears and paranoia were suddenly flushed away at the prospect of losing net-knows-how-many hours dealing with an anti-hacker unit. It didn’t help that I had confirmed dealings with dark brokers and a self-revealed dark hacker.

“Any changes to my accounts?” I looked at my phone.

“There have been no new hacking attempts or virus infections. Do you want me to perform an updated virus scan?”

“Yes.” I looked around. A few early shifters were visible further down the street, their posture and movement unmistakable even at this distance. “Do a paid scan. Best one up to fifty.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!”

Looking around one final time, I gripped my phone and rushed on. Every minute or so, I’d glance at the screen, checking the scan’s progress. A few false positives popped up—the standard files that were marked every time—but nothing else. As I was looking, my phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

“Twinkle, do a search for the number,” I ordered.

“Sorry, Sarah. I can’t do that until the virus scan is complete,” he replied in his sad voice as a crying semi-transparent kitten appeared on my screen.

Damn it! Of all the possible things. Taking a deep breath I accepted the call.

“Yes?” I tried to sound calm and in control.

“Sarah, it’s me Kyle,” a familiar voice said. “Jeff gave me your number. Sorry about the call, but things got a bit crazy. Jeff had some family emergency stuff and had to run to the hospital.”

“What?” Cold chills gripped me like a wet blanket. There were dozens of things I could have thought, yet the one thing on my mind was whether another element of my dream had come true or not. “Was it his sister?”

“Huh?” I felt the surprise in Kyle’s voice. “No idea. He just said family emergency, hospital, and told me to call you.”

So it actually happened. I had assumed that since Jeff’s experience wasn’t related to me, there was no way for it to happen in real life. It had.

“Jeff asked me to ask you to open up for him,” Kyle continued. “He’ll talk to your boss from the hospital. Looks like you’ll be managing the morning shift. If you’re lucky, maybe even—“

A loud click cut Kyle off, but not the call. I looked at the screen of my phone. Seconds kept counting on, even if there was no sound.

“Complete the quest,” a new voice said, garbled beyond recognition by voice modding software. “There will be no second chances. Fail, and you’ll never have existed. Succeed and you’ll have your normal life back.”

The call ended. I stared at the phone for a while longer, then switched it to sleep and put it in my pocket. Right now, I could no longer tell if reality was affecting the game, or if the game was affecting reality. Either way, someone somewhere had made a choice for me, and I wasn’t sure I could say no.